


Lie Your Shining Silver Tongue Off

by AnonymouslyDead



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Arrangement found out, Asexual Relationship, Crowleys not ok, Fake Relationship, Feel free to correct pronouns, Getting Together, Hell and all it’s workings, M/M, bc it’s hell, mild violence/torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-06-26 19:26:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19774840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymouslyDead/pseuds/AnonymouslyDead
Summary: Hell finds out about Aziraphale and Crowley’s little meetings. Crowley managed to convince them that he has Aziraphale wrapped around his finger, but that only means they expect him to make Aziraphale fall in 10 years.Whatever is he to do?





	1. Chapter 1

Crowley has had thousands of years to prepare the arrangement. When he’d bring it up. How he’d present it to Aziraphale. Arguments against whatever point he’d bring up, not that there should be many. The arrangement made sense in every way: More work gets done with less effort. The human world gets kept in a neutral balance. And most importantly, he’d have an excuse to see Aziraphale more than once in a century.

Now, what to do in case Hell found out about it? He’d put significantly less thought into that. 

A part of him wanted to just play things fast as usual and enjoy whatever his stub pulled him. If things really came down on him, he could always run off. Alpha Centauri was nice around this time of year anyway. 

Still, he knew there was a chance he’d get caught and dragged away before he could. Like he was now. 

His delightful demon colleagues had taken it upon themselves to tie him up to a chair. Little good it would do normally, but they also saw it to circle him, jeering, spitting insults, and pulling his hair. 

“Hey! Hey! Watch the glasses!” He snapped at one particularly brave hand. Of course, the demon it belonged to snatched his glasses and snapped them in half in response. 

“Enough!” The demons stopped and backed up into a neat semi circle, the gap in which was filled with Beelzebub themself. 

“Well, this seems rather much.” Crowley said, holding onto his calm and cool demeanor like a lifeline. “If you wanted to speak to me, m’lord, you could’ve just called-“ 

“Shut up.” They demanded. They marched up to Crowley, leveling their cold stare at him face to face. “Would you mind telling me why in the Hell have you been colluding with the angel, Aziraphale?” 

Now, any sane person would look in the face of the leader of Hell and choose their words carefully. 

Instead, Crowley bit out a “What does it look like I was doing?” 

Beelzebub’s expression doesn’t change. Instead, they looked up. White hot metal pressed into his back. Crowley cried out in surprise, hissing and writhing along with his burning leather jacket. When the demon finally pulled it away, Crowley heaved our a breath. 

“That was my favorite jacket, you wanker!” 

“If I we’re you, I’d worry about yourself.” Another demon mocked him. Crowley craned his neck. It’s Hastur. Of course, it’s Hastur. Bastard never liked him. “I doubt your boyfriend will rush down here to save you.” 

Boyfriend? They thought Aziraphale was his boyfriend. 

Crowley smirked. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to note that my boyfriend is on a fast track to...well down here.” 

That put a surprised look on Beelzebub’s face much to Crowley’s satisfaction. “What do you mean?” 

“Aziraphale has gone soft from living with humans all these years. That makes him weak to the same temptations. A little of the right ones, if you know what I mean, and I can have him doing anything I want.” Crowley claimed. The demons around him broke out into hushed conversations in their surprise. A few of them threw more insults and loudly dismissed him. 

“Silence.” Beelzebub called out. The demons clammed up immediately. They looked at Crowley. “To what end are you going for?” 

“Look at the big picture here. We’d have a double agent, someone with access to our enemy’s every move. We could be one step ahead of Heaven like that. And, all it takes is a little of the right charm.”

Beelzebub thought this over for minute before nodding. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Well, brilliant. Now if you just-“ Crowley gestured his body. Beelzebub snapped and the ropes around him disappeared. Crowley stood up gratefully only to wince at the wound on his shoulder. The demons around him cried out in protest. Crowley smirked at them. “I’ll just be on my way then. It’s been real lovely.” 

“Hold it.” Beelzebub said. Crowley stopped to look at their stern face. “What I don’t like is you flirting with an angel. If Aziraphale is as high and mighty as you say, I want him down here.” 

Crowley swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach. “You don’t mean-“ 

“I want him to fall.” Beelzebub raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, of course not. That’s no problem.” Crowley chuckled despite the sour bile threatening to climb up his throat. “I’ve already put some of the work into it, so I estimate that I’ll have rearing to full in the next-“ Crowley tilted his head side to side. “century or so?” 

“I want it done in ten years.” Beelzebub said calm and collected. Crowley didn’t bother trying to hide his shock. 

“Milord, I don’t think you quite understand. This is a delicate operation I’ve been handling for years now-“ 

“Do it in ten years or it’s a few centuries in the 6th layer of hell for you. I will not tolerate this kind of insolence. Do you understand?” Beelzebub said. 

“Crystal.” Crowley snapped his fingers, pointing to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get right on that. To seducing my boyfriend into falling.” 

Beelzebub nodded. “I expect results.” 

Crowley was already heading for the door, demons parting as he walked by. “Of course, you do, milord.” 

Crowley was never more glad to be out of the dark, crammed offices than he was then.


	2. Chapter 2

Year 1

Crowley sped faster down the street , gritting his teeth. He slowed down when the familiar bookshop came into view. This time, he threw the Bentley into park in front of it, determined to get out. 

He gripped the wheel as the memories forced themselves to the front of his mind again. He remembered crystal clear what it was like in Heaven, living in the lapse of God’s love. Being given a divine purpose to add to the wide scope of reality. 

His had been stars. He spun stars from nothing and hung them in the sky, making an abstract canvas for the humans to delve stories from. Even now, it filled with pride to look up at his work.

Of course, that was one of the first things to go when he realized he was falling. He flew up into the sky and realized his stars didn’t shine the same way. He tried again and again only to find each attempt was weaker than the last, each growing smaller, dimmer, and dying all the quicker. When the day came that he couldn’t spin stars at all, any hope died in him. 

Next came a slow exile. Suddenly, the other angels turned from him as he walked through Heaven as if his status was branded across his forehead. And as if that wasn’t salting the wounds enough, there came the point where God herself- in all her infinite love and compassion- decided he wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. All over a few questions. 

That probably stung the worst at the time. The slow, agonizing burn of his form changing itself, any trace of holiness burning away only to twist and contort his form into the unholy visage he was today. 

And, he just dragged his best friend into the same fate. 

Crowley tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He looked back at the bookshop before shaking his head. He started the Bentley back up and pulled out into the street. He sped off, promising himself he would just ride around the block once more. 

He’s told himself that nine times today. His record so far is the 36 times he did so two weeks ago.

He needed to tell Aziraphale at some point. He knew this, but god, how could he? How is he going to walk up to him and admit how bad he screwed up?

No, he needed a plan, something that gave them some kind of hope. Crowley growled before slamming on the gas pedal. He yanked the steering wheel back and forth, weaving through traffic. 

He usually had his best ideas speeding down the highway. Except now when he really needed it. 

Crowley turned on the radio, hoping to drown out his thoughts. The radio quickly snapped itself off. Crowley glared at the radio and then turned it back on. He spun the volume dial up to its highest setting. The first bars of Bohemian Rhapsody shook his car before the dial spun itself down to zero. 

Crowley groaned in frustration. “As if I don’t already know how much I fucked up!” He pressed every button on the radio in a desperate attempt. “Please just give me something!” 

“Crowley...” An absolutely vile voice leaked through his radio. Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“Hello, Hastur. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Crowley asked, drenching his words in sarcasm. Despite that, he shifted in his seat, phantom pains tickling the ugly burn scar marring his left shoulder. 

“Milord wants to know what the hell are you doing.” 

“I’m driving.” Crowley sent the radio a look that screamed duh complete with throwing one hand up in exasperation. He glanced up at the road, realized a car was heading straight for him, and swerved back into the correct lane. He leaned back in his seat and sighed in relief. 

“With the angel! You’re wasting time.” Hastur snapped. 

“Oh.” Crowley eyed the road, keeping a keen glare on any nearby cars. “No, I’m not. I’m...playing hard to get.” 

“...What? What’s that?” 

Crowley had to stifle his own laughter, the first he’d had in a while. “Well you see, it’s a human strategy. You give the target all the attention he desires and then just cut him off completely. It leaves them clamoring for more, desperate to get another fix. I’ve already given Aziraphale years of attention so-.” Crowley gestured to the radio for Hastur to follow along.

“Oh..alright. That makes sense.” Crowley could practically see Hastur’s complete lack of understanding through the radio. “I’ll let Milord know. Hail Satan.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Hail Satan.” Crowley snapped the radio off, letting the car fall into an oppressive silence. 

...He still had to tell Aziraphale. 

Crowley cursed and threw his car into a turn. He just barely missed sideswiping a mini van as he sped around the corner. He took another harsh turn and another until he was riding back down the Aziraphale’s road. Soon enough, the bookshop was back in view. He zipped into the nearest parking spot. 

Ok, he was going to do it. He was going to tell Aziraphale everything. 

...And, watch as the one of the best things that’s happened to him since he fell come to hate him. Just like everyone else. It’s about time really. Inevitable even. 

Crowley sighed and started up his car yet again. Screw it, he could do it tomorrow. And just like yesterday, he felt like a total coward as he retreated to his apartment yet again to take his frustrations out on his plants yet again. 


	3. Chapter 3

Year 2

Maggots. Bloody maggots seemed to follow him wherever he went. They peppered the ground at his feet, miraculously gathered in trash, and even marred the otherwise immaculate soil of one of his better growing plants. With a angry growl, he uprooted the plant and dumped the soil down the waiting garbage disposal. It stalled for seconds before grinding through the soil. Crowley had expected a scream, but all he got was a bubbly gurgle.

` Crowley groaned in frustration and slammed the empty pot on the counter hard enough to crack its ceramic surface. He leaned against the counter, his mind racing. 

He was just being paranoid at this point. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself. But when he swore he saw what he swore was the exact same frog on the storefront windows of Aziraphale's bookshop five days in a row, he started to have his doubts. 

The thought of Aziraphale made his stomach churn. Or maybe, he was just making excuses at this point. He had already let his guilt fester for a year. Why not go for another?

Crowley groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. He started walking for the phone with newfound purpose. He made it to the table where the machine rested and hovered his hand over the receiver.

He yanked his hand away just as he was about to make contact with phone as if it had spontaneously combusted. Crowley cried out, stomping his feet and cursing his own cowardice. As he threw his fit, he missed the click from the click and whirl of the answering machine. 

"Hello? Crowley?" Aziraphale's voice filled his apartment. Crowley froze. staring intently at the phone. "I'm just calling to say hi." Aziraphale chuckled with forced humor. "Haven't heard from you in a while. You have me in a bit of a worry."

It's not the first time Crowley had heard a similar message, but god, did every one burn like holy water. 

"Oh, please get back to me soon. It'd be nice to know you haven't been discorporated."

Crowley hissed at the phone as if it had physically wronged him. In reality, guilt was cutting an fresh wound, making his stomach twist in excruciating new ways.

"Or, that something worse hasn't happened. I just...It'd be nice to hear from you at all. Just when you have a moment, drop a line. Please."

Crowley tried covering his ears over the message, but the words seemed to echo in his mind, making a maddening cacophony. He dug his hands into his hair, tugging at the roots, before he threw his hands down. 

"Alright, fine!" He snapped. He yanked the receiver off its cradle. "Secret meeting place 4. One hour." He said before slamming the receiver back into its place. He looked down at his hand clenched around the receiver, realizing what he had just done. 

Time to face the music.

************************************************************

Crowley swirled his now lukewarm coffee in his cheap paper cup, letting the noise of the hole in the wall coffee shop drown out his nagging worries. He took a sip of the drink before cringing. He got up and walked to the large trashcans in front, tossing the drink away with slight more malice than he necessarily needed.

Here, he looked out the store's large storefront windows, looking around for Aziraphale. Instead, he spotted a fat frog seated on its surface. A shock of panic jolted Crowley the more he looked at it, recognizing the patchy pattern on its skin. 

He knew it!

The cowbell over the store's door jangled nearby. Crowley looked up to find Aziraphale shooting him a relieved smile. "Crowley."

Crowley tried his best to fake an enthusiastic smile. "Ah, angel!" He gestured towards himself. "Come here, you."

Aziraphale seemed thrown off by the suggestion but allowed himself to be swept into Crowley's arms. He wrapped his arms around Crowley and gripped the back of his leather jacket as if Crowley would disappear on him.

After a moment, Aziraphale pulled away, but Crowley kept his arms around him. They stood about a foot apart. Aziraphale didn't seemed to mind at the moment, too busy giving him a stern look. "Good heavens, Crowley! Do you know how much worry you've caused me? You disappear for a year and suddenly reappear. I hope you have a brilliant explanation."

"Oh, but I do." Crowley forced a cheeky smile on his face before he leaned in to Aziraphale's ear. "We're being watched. Follow my lead." Crowley hissed. He started to pull away before he leaned back in and added. "Oh! Act flustered." 

"Oh my." Aziraphale gasped. He made an exaggerated show of fanning his face. He got a few strange looks from nearby patrons in response. Crowley let out a quiet sigh. 

"Come on, angel. Let's just take a seat." 

The two found themselves a table and carried on as if it was a normal meeting. It was awkward, the tension clear between them. But god, Crowley would be lying if he said he didn't miss their little meetings. Seeing Aziraphale and hearing him past his recorded attempts to get a response over the year just hammered in how much of an absolute tosser he's been.

So after an hour had past, Crowley stood up. "Shall we take this somewhere more private?" He said, placing emphasis on the end of his sentence. Aziraphale thankfully caught on, eager to follow him out of the store into his Bentley for once. Once they were seated, Aziraphale opened his mouth, but Crowley waved a hand. He glanced over at the window of the store, finding that the frog from earlier was gone. 

"So, my place then?" Crowley threw the car into drive. Aziraphale's words died in his throat as they sped down the street. He braced against the seat, gasping when Crowley took rough turn after turn before he pulled up at his apartment building. 

"Jesus Christ, Crowley. It's like you purposely want to give me a heart attack." Aziraphale gasped. 

"I've only just started. Now, hurry before Hastur gets over his motion sickness!" Crowley hissed. Aziraphale quickly followed Crowley out, only stopping a moment to stare down at a stumbling frog, and then followed him up into his apartment. Crowley shut the door behind them with a huge, heaving sigh.

"Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on now?" 

Crowley didn't answer right away. He bit his bottom lip and looked around as if he'd magically find the right words scattered across his apartment. "Don't get mad." He finally settled on.

"What did you do?" Aziraphale insisted.

'Ok! Hell...might have found out about us." Crowley found himself saying. Aziraphale's jaw dropped, shock loud and clear across his face. "And, I might've told them I've seduced you."

Aziraphale blinked, looking as if he was waiting for a punchline. When none came, he made a face. "You what?"

"I panicked!" Crowley insisted. "I didn't know what else would-" He stopped when he heard a slight noise coming from deeper in his apartment. He looked towards the hallway, focusing on the noise and finding that Yes, there indeed was a slight noise coming from down there. Aziraphale followed Crowley's gaze, frowning. 

"Is that buzzing?" The answer was yes. A fly and then another flew out from the hallway. Crowley's heart dropped. 

"Quick." Crowley approached Aziraphale, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall to his floor. "Take off your coat."

"Alright." Aziraphale started to shrug off his coat. He gathered it into his arms before looking at Crowley who was unbuttoning his shirt. He started surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, don't be a prude." Crowley quipped, though he felt uncomfortable himself like he was more exposed than he logically was. An unbearable, squirming sensation hit him, but he shoved it away in order to invade Aziraphale's personal space. He slowly worked through the first few buttons on Aziraphale's shirt before he realized that the buzzing down the hall had stopped. Crowley drew his hands away from Aziraphale as if he'd been burned. 

Crowley hurried down the hall, grateful for the out, and peeked into all of his rooms. "Ha!" He called out. "Have the nerve to follow me but can't stick to it, can ya? Hell, am I right?" Crowley looked at Aziraphale, frowning when he found the angel's frowning face.

"Jesus Christ." Crowley expected frantic questioning or some kind of scolding, but he felt fingertips brush his shoulder ever so slightly. There's a light burn as a miracle worked on his skin. Crowley looked, and the once marred skin tissue was smooth once again. Aziraphale looked at him, eyes full of concern. "Hell did this to you?"

"It's nothing." Crowley lied casually.

"What do we have to do?" Aziraphale insisted, his face grave. Crowley sighed.

"Go on a date with me I suppose." 


	4. Chapter 4

Year 3

"So, how does this work?" Aziraphale whispered, leaning over towards Crowley. He tried to keep his eyes off of the strange, red and blue speckled lizard that seemed to be minding its business when he glanced at it. Occasionally, it moved to keep pace with them or to dodge one of the many pedestrians streaming by.

"Haven't you read a single romance novel over the years?" Crowley asked.

"I'll have you know I am well versed in many centuries worth of romantic literature." Aziraphale hissed back. As if to make his point, he grabbed ahold of Crowley's hand. He let his arm relax, their linked hands hanging between them as they walked. Crowley didn't know whether to laugh or to sign his death warrant.

"Angel." Crowley said exasperated. "Hell is hardly a fluffy romcom."

"I know that!" Aziraphale hissed. Crowley found himself tugged forward into Aziraphale's waiting arm. Aziraphale hooked his arm around Crowley's waist, plugging him in side by side. Crowley tensed up in surprise. He was hyperaware of Aziraphale's hand resting on his hip, and that stubborn thought sent heat rushing to his face.

"Is this alright?" Aziraphale asked, those blue eyes seeming to burn a hole in his. Crowley looked away if nothing but to get relief from it.

"Perfect." Crowley tried to keep his voice even. A fleck of red movement caught the corner of his eye. He turned towards it, glad to have a distraction. "We should get a move on. Lingur looks antsy."

Lingur had scuttled just a little too close to where Crowley and Aziraphale walked in an effort to avoid foot traffic. He seemed to realize it with a jump of his small body. His eyes darted around before settling on a lightpost. He darted between stray pedestrians' feet and across the sidewalk, finishing the sudden move by ducking behind the lightpost's thick, concrete base.

As if Crowley and Aziraphale hadn't seen the whole spectacle.

"Well then, dear Crowley." Aziraphale announced. The two could see Lingur peek around from his hiding spot in interest. "What devilish temptations do you have up your sleeve for me this evening?" 

Crowley smirked. "Perhaps, I could tempt you to a walk down memory lane?"

"Oh, sounds heavenly. What do you have in mind?"

***************************************************

The movie theater they choose is crowded, a far cry from the near empty stadiums of 1600s London. The lights had dimmed, and previews for other movies played on the large screen in front of the room. The perfect cover for Crowley to snap his fingers and miracle a pair of free seats in the perfect middle of the room. Aziraphale and Crowley edged their way past seated humans, Aziraphale stopping to apologize when he spilled his large tub of popcorn over a woman, and sat down. As if on cue, the screen went dark and rolled the opening sequence.

It's a traditional retelling of Hamlet set to the miracle that was the modern movie industry. Computer generated seas rolled by as the young actor playing Hamlet sailed back to Denmark while delivering the opening monologue. Aziraphale sat next to him with his eyes glued to the screen, occasionally breaking it to pop popcorn into his mouth.

Crowley stretched his arms above his head and used that to mask a quick scan of the room. When he was satisfied, he let his arms drop, allowing one to fall around Aziraphale's shoulders. His arms seemed to burn on contact yet again, the skin seeming to buzz down to its molecules but not in an uncomfortable way. 

Aziraphale glanced at him and then chuckled. "Who's a fluffy romcom now?" He whispered.

"Oh, shut up, angel. Like you have better moves." 

"I certainly do." Aziraphale protested. He leaned into Crowley's arms-at least as much as the arm rest would allow. Aziraphale sighed, letting his head rest on Crowley. The contact took that burning sensation from earlier to more of an electrocution, something that made his heart pound with the exhilaration and his stomach twist. Almost like listening to the chorus of a Queen song while driving full speed down a busy road. 

It was also very distracting. By the time Crowley paid attention to the movie again, the movie was three scenes later. Crowley pushed the thought from his mind and focused on the movie. 

It was certainly more interesting than the 1600s stageplay. It is more dramatized with a lot more explicit violence than Shakespheare originally intended, and the accompanying background music wasn't terrible. By the time the climax was ramping up, Crowley had forgotten what he was so caught up in.

Then, Aziraphale sat up in his chair, robbing him of the feeling and leaving him wondering how he felt like he'd lost something.

The ending credits were a blessing. The lights slowly brightened, and people stood up. People filed out the door, muttering their own opinions on the movie amongst each other. Crowley and Aziraphale stood to do the same.

Aziraphale shot Crowley a look before scanning the room. Crowley gave a slight nod to the seats behind them. Aziraphale made a silent "ah" face and then started walking down the row. Crowley followed suit with Lingur behind them, jumping from seat to seat before hopping down to the lighted aisle floor.

"Well, angel?"

"It's just not the same. " Aziraphale said tentatively. He held up his hands. "I mean the movie was fine, but I feel like it loses someone of the...human touch of live 1600s theater."

"Really?" Crowley frowned. "I rather like this version. A lot more paltable for a tradegy."

"I suppose."

"That's not the reason I brought you here anyway." Crowley said. Aziraphale gave him a curious look. "Don't you remember? Hamlet is where we first made our dark union official!" Crowley announced slightly louder to the empty theater hallway.

"Oh...oh quite!" Aziraphale smiled fondly. "Our alliance. It was quite a...spectacular time. How could I forget? It's the day you became a permanent fixture in my life."

Crowley felt another shock hit him, but he covered it up with a casual smile. They walked out the building's front door into the street where the sun had dipped low in sky from when they first entered. Crowley nodded to his car. "Let me give you a ride home."

It felt like a repeat from the past transposed onto the present. Questions asked with a far deeper meaning. Answers that left him stewing alone in his car with death in his hands, reeling over what felt like rejection. But then, Aziraphale agreed, and everything felt righted in a way. They stepped into the Bentley with Lingur quick on their heels.

*************************************************************************

"Here, we are, angel." Crowley pulled in front of the bookshop. Aziraphale made no move to get out though. "What?" Crowley asked, turning his head towards Aziraphale.

Aziraphale looked at him, his eyes thinking something over. Then, he reached over, caressing Crowley's jaw. Crowley sucked in a breath.

"May I?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley's heart pounded as Aziraphale's thumb slid ever so slightly over his chin.

'I...Angel, I don't think that is necess-"

Aziraphale cut him off with an annoyed look. Crowley furrowed his eyebrows. Aziraphale nodded back. Crowley looked, catching Lingur's small body scuttle up the passenger window. He looked back at Aziraphale and then down at his lips, wondering if his heart would stay in his chest long afterwards.

Crowley swallowed. "Alright, angel."

Aziraphale nodded and then leaned over the middle console, the smell of Aziraphale's musky cologne washing over Crowley as Aziraphale got closer. He pressed their lips together feather light. It lasted for seconds, just enough for Crowley to register how soft Aziraphale's lips were, before Aziraphale pulled away blushing. He bid Crowley a quick goodbye and then left Crowley reeling. 

Crowley's insides knotted like a tangle of snakes. His mind kept running over those few seconds like they spanned years, the ghost of Aziraphale's lips burning in such a pleasant way. He felt his cheeks burn just thinking about it. 

At some point, he thought to drive home. And by some miracle, he made it home without a major car crash. He got out and went up to his apartment. It's only when he closed the door to his apartment, locking Lingur out, that Crowley realized-

"God, I'm fucked."


	5. Chapter 5

Year 4

Aziraphale dug out his centuries old basket, an ancient wicker thing bleached from time and held together solely with miracle after miracle. He sat it carefully on his desk, minding the books and papers already scattered on its surface. He moved his hands over the basket again to work another miracle. Carefully prepared finger sandwiches packed into a tupperware appeared on his desk. He tucked the container into the basket only for the scrumptious looking pound cake he bought from the lovely bakery a few blocks away appeared. Once that was packed away, the bottle of vintage wine he had in mind for today sat on the desk as if it had been waiting there the whole time. 

One by one, he packed away each new item until his basket was brimming with items. He took a moment to wonder if he overpacked. Crowley usually wasn't one to eat, so most of his food may just wind up going to waste. Then again, Crowley was full of surprises. What if he showed up with not enough food the one time Crowley wished to join him?

Oh, to hell with it. Aziraphale miracled a sky blue blanket and tucked it neatly over his items. As he did so, the front door's cowbell jangled. Aziraphale's eyebrows knitted together. He had remembered to change the store sign to closed?

He shrugged it off, chalking it up to a mistake. "I'm sorry, but we're closed for the day." He announced as he finished sorting out his basket.

"Hello to you, too, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale's head whipped towards the door where Gabriel was looking around at his stacks of books. He walked towards Aziraphale before suddenly gesturing at him with a hand curled around a soft drink cup, spilling a splash of dark cola onto the floor.

"How long have you been seeing the demon, Crowley?" 

Aziraphale's eyes widened,and his mouth fell open slightly in shock. he felt as if he'd been slapped by the sudden question. 

"Oh, close your mouth, Aziraphale. It's unbecoming." Gabriel scolded. He gestured to the side with a box of rattling candy, looking off. "I mean don't get me wrong. I hardly blame you when Crowley looks like that. However, you must realize how this would look to the rest of Heaven."

Aziraphale felt like his pulse was in his ears, Gabriel's words screaming in his head. 

"I...um...How-What-" was all Aziraphale could string together as the meaning of this meeting hit him.

"I have friends, Aziraphale. Friends. That. Know. Things." He punctuated each word with a shake of his candy box. 

"I can explain!" Aziraphale claimed despite not knowing how he'd possibly explain. Gabriel raised an eyebrow and then gestured forward with his cola again. 

"Go on."

Aziraphale's brain panicked. He tried to spin some sort of lie, but everything that he came up with had logic that would fall apart at any sort of scrutiny. Oh god, why didn't he get better at lying over the years? 

But, the only thing that really stuck in his mind was Crowley's ongoing lie. Crowley had gotten away from Hell's scrutiny with it. Plus, it's not like he was lying anymore than he already was. And, Gabriel had already lent credit to the idea, his panic laiden mind supplied.

"I don't have all day." Gabriel complained.

So, Aziraphale told him.

Gabriel huffed in amusement. "You? Seduce an demon back into converting?"

"You know what they say, kill them with kindness." Aziraphale smiled despite the comment digging in just a bit.

"Oh, I know. It's a good plan. With a better angel, it could possibly work. It's just-" Gabriel gestured to Aziraphale in general, rattling the damn candy box again.

Aziraphale felt a twinge of annoyance, just enough to make Aziraphale want to pull his damn hair out. The same feeling he always felt when Gabriel went off on a triade. Usually, Aziraphale mustered up his better natural and dealt with it. 

"I have him eating out the palm of my hand." Aziraphale snapped. As much as he dared to around Gabriel that is. It only lead to Gabriel balking and then bursting out laughing, the irritating, melodious noise filling Aziraphale's store.

"Oh, I'd love to see that." Gabriel said, holding his sides. The cup of cola tipped and spilled down his jacket, marring the otherwise pristine fabric. When Gabriel noticed, he hurried to miracle the cola away. Aziraphale took just a tiny bit of pleasure in the sight. 

"Um..." Gabriel looked down as if he just realized he still held the items. He unceremoniously thrust the items at Aziraphale. "Here, you know what to do with these."

Aziraphale took the items, looking down at them in confusion. "I thought you didn't sully yourself with human substances?"

"I don't. It's just camoflague...for my meeting...with my friend." Gabriel awkwardly spat out. "Well!" Gabriel clapped his now free hands. "I'll see you around Aziraphale." 

With that, Gabriel left in a bit of rush, leaving Aziraphale to wonder how the hell he was going to explain this to Crowley. 

And also, where on Earth did Gabriel get a box of Milk Duds.

*********************************************************************

"Hey, angel! It's about time you showed!" Crowley stood up from the park bench and walked to Aziraphale, throwing an arm around Aziraphale as if it were natural. Which it was. Over the year, they had gone on many dates. And sure, it still seemed burn but in such an enticing way that sent a lovely feeling washing over him, a feeling warm and homely that he thought he'd lost a millenia ago.

He knew he should probably tell Aziraphale at some point about how everything seemed so right whenever the two pretended to date for the benefit of the newest spy from Hell. About how he spent an embarassing amount of time yelling at his plants in a one sided debate over every touch and kiss that seemed to linger. About how much of an idiot he was for putting himself in this situation in the first place.

A part of him hoped that the words would just spill out naturally. That one of these fake dates would put in him in such a daze of emotions that he would let his guard down and let the words take him. But, fear always stopped him. The fact that this was all his fault weighed heavy on his mind, not to mention the fact that the clock was ticking. 

Beelzebub was growing quite antsy about the whole ordeal, demanding an indepth report from him of each encounter along with their spies'. They also made it clear that their deadline was fixed. Either Hell would have Aziraphale in their midst or they'd have Crowley.

God, how was he going to look at Aziraphale after this?

But then, he caught the somber expression on Aziraphale's face, and that concern gave way to a new one.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Aziraphale didn't answer, choosing to pay attention to his hands wringing the weather handle of his basket. Crowley frowned. He moved his hand up to Aziraphale's shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "You seemed estatic about the fake picnic date yesterday."

"No, it's not that." Aziraphale took a deep breath, his face twisting into a grimace. "Gabriel just came by the shop actually. He knows everything."

If Crowley's eyes weren't hidden behind the his sunglasses, he's sure they would pop out of his skull. "What?!"

"I managed to sedate him for now, but I doubt that'll be the last of him." Aziraphale said.

"Dear god, what did you tell him?" Crowley asked. Aziraphale clammed up for a moment. Crowley wheeled his hand. "Aw, come on, angel. Spill it."

"I used the same lie as you, ok?"

Crowley blinked. "You're seducing me now?" He asked though he heard it clear the first time. Aziraphale nodded, comfirming that he wasn't suddenly hearing things. Crowley let out a sigh and brought a hand to a face. 

"Angel, you're so clever." Crowley whined. "How did you miss the obvious problem? How are you going to seduce me when I'm supposed to be seducing you?" 

"I panicked. I didn't know what else to say!" Aziraphale said, throwing his hands up in defense. 

"Well, is Gabriel watching us now at least?" 

Aziraphale concentrated. Meanwhile, Crowley lead the two to a empty stretch of grass by the lake. He pried the basket from Aziraphale's hand and then set out laying out the blanket.

"No, I can't sense him." Aziraphale was quick to help him. He started taking out contents from the basket, laying out glasses, plates, and silverware in neat order. Crowley quickly claimed the bottle of wine from the basket and poured himself a drink.

"Well at least, we can focus on this date first." Crowley tipped back the contents of his glass, the familiar burn a weak replacement for the content he felt earlier. He gestured the bottle towards Aziraphale. 

"Oh yes, please." Aziraphale sighed, quickly claiming his own glass and holding it out. Once Crowley had filled it, Aziraphale pressed a quick kiss to his lips. That content feeling rushed back in a wave even with his troubled mind

"Oh, how you tempt me to such sin, demon!" Aziraphale announced louder, his eyes darting to the ducks that seemed to stare at them from the edge of the pond.

Of course, it would be the ducks.


	6. Chapter 6

Day 5

The first time that Aziraphale caught an angelic presence watching him was on a simple hang out with Crowley. They had been walking a few blocks over to the quaint, little bakery Aziraphale had gotten the pound cake from. The cake itself had been utterly divine, something worthy of a morning trip to buy another to go with lunch...and perhaps a few other delights. Crowley didn't quite agree as he'd made perfectly clear in his reluctance to go out so early, but that didn't stop him from accompanying the angel. 

It was perfect really. It gave Aziraphale a chance to back up his lie. 

So when Aziraphale had noticed the prickling sensation of divine observation, Aziraphale slowly inched closer until their hands brushed as they walked. Crowley looked at him, his eyebrows raised up in surprise. Aziraphale winked and then grabbed Crowley's hand, lacing their fingers together. Despite his dark sunglasses obscuring his face, Aziraphale could read the realization on his face.

"Feeling sappy today, angel?" Crowley teased, but he squeezed Aziraphale's hand. Aziraphale smiled fondly.

"I wouldn't call it sappy. I feel something more like elation. Just like i always do when I get blessed with your presence."

Crowley's jaw fell slightly, a slight blush painting his cheeks. It's something Aziraphale hadn't quite seen in at least a year, and it was sorely missed how he stumbled over his words. Something about lavishing Crowley with affections until he fell apart was a great pleasure to come from this whole situation, and Aziraphale would be lying if he said he wasn't a glutton for it.

Crowley gathered himself together enough to gather his thoughts. He let his head fall back and a loud, exasperated sigh escape his lips. "Damn it, angel. I am not a blessing!" He hissed.

"I'm sorry that you'd think that, my dear, but God works in mysterious ways. " He took Crowley's hand and pressed a kiss to it. "I, for one, love her beautiful works." He said looking up at Crowley.

Crowley spent the rest of their walk in silence, his face a darker red. And, the silence continued as they entered the small shop and took in the bright storefront. Crowley leaned against the display counter, staring at Aziraphale intently with a small smile as he poured over the various pastries, cakes, and cookies. The sight sent a rush of fondness through him.

They weren't so lucky on their next meeting. It seemed normal when they were driving to the Ritz, and a trio of pigeons seemed deadset on following their every move. But then as they were seated at their normal table, he sensed that familiar feeling of being watched and not just by the pigeons staring in from the front windows.

"What is it?" Crowley asked, shaking his head. "No, don't tell me."

Aziraphale didn't.

"No." Crowley moaned. He glanced between the windows and then back at Aziraphale as if asking what to do. Aziraphale shrugged, his eyes wide with panic. The two went back and forth, silently urging each other to do something, until Aziraphale finally threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Hello, gentlemen. Will it be the usual?" A waiter, one human named Charlie that regularly waited the both of them and that they both rather liked, said. The blessed human offered the both of them glasses and a bottle of vintage wine. But before they could answer, a loud crack echoed through the building. The chattering patrons and employees around them all seemed to silence and turn towards the noise in unison. 

The source of the noise had been the front windows which now sported massive webs of cracks that obscured its previous view of the street outside. As soon as the shock wore off, the humans around them commented on just how strange an occurance that was. Miraculous, one could almost say. 

Crowley and Aziraphale, however, stared at each other in surprise. Charlie, talented as he was, recovered quickly and busied himself pouring them drinks. They each took their glass and sipped them in numb silence. Their waiter took the hint, claiming he'd give them time to look over the menu. 

"I'm sorry." Crowley broke the silence. Aziraphale took a minute to wonder whatever for before he made the connection.

"Oh no, dear. The windows were-"

"I'm sorry!" Crowley said just a bit louder, cutting him off with a meaningful stare from behind his glasses. "I just don't know what came over me. These demonic urges-" He groaned in fake frustration, slapping his hands onto the table. 

"Oh." Aziraphale paused for a moment. "Oh! Oh dear, don't worry." Aziraphale laid his hands over Crowley's. Almost immediately, Crowley's hands sought his and laced them together. A bright blush washed over his cheeks again much to his delight. "God forgives all as do I."

"I wouldn't say so so soon, angel." Aziraphale was surprised at his slightly bitter tone. "I've done some horrible things."

"I know, but I forgive you nonetheless."

Crowley gave a small smile. "You really are sappy, angel. You've been saying the same thing for years." He looked down at their hands, running his thumbs over Aziraphale's knuckles as if they might hold answers to questions Aziraphale didn't know. "Might just get me to believe it someday." He muttered just low enough that Aziraphale barely caught it. 

Aziraphale frowned, wondering what that was to meant. He was about to ask when Charlie came back, asking if they had decided. The mood lightened immensely with Aziraphale focused on ordering and Crowley cutting in to request a new wine. Conversation after Charlie left was light and flirty, keeping Crowley in that softer, adoring look that Aziraphale couldn't get enough of. 

Of course, Aziraphale was still a bit concerned, but there was an issue of the pigeons at hand. They kept trying to sneak in, timing their attempts to follow entering patrons. Aziraphale heard employees and patrons alike cry out in surprise. 

"Suppose we'll have to get takeaway." Crowley suggested. Aziraphale nodded. They took Charlie as much when he came back to the table and, bless his soul, he took it in stride. He had the two out the door, food and wine in hand, in quick time. 

They started to the car when Crowley stopped just a few paces from the building. He turned towards the shattered windows and started to wave his hands. Aziraphale jumped and rushed to stop him. Crowley gave him a questioning look. 

Once that miracle was cast, Aziraphale played it off as an excuse to be closer, tucking himself into the space under Crowley's arm. "I know. It's a wonderful bit of malice, isn't it?" He asked, smiling up at Crowley.

Just then, a pigeon was swept out of the door. It tweeted angrily at the closing door before another pigeon playing suspiciously inconspicious chirped just as angrily back at it. The first pigeon seemed to get the hint, hopping about and pecking the ground along with the second.

Crowley waggled his head side to side. "It's a start, I suppose." 

Aziraphale giggled. "Don't suppose you have any more temptations up your sleeve?" He asked even though he was already tugging on his jacket. Crowley gladly complied much to the twittering grief of two totally ordinary pigeons. 

The kiss was longer than they usually kissed for. Crowley mashed their lips together, soft and moist with the taste of wine lingering between their lips. Their lips pressed against each other like they were to meld together for a long moment until Aziraphale tried to pull away with a wet smack. Crowley chased his lips, bringing him into another kiss. This time, Crowley nipped and licked at Crowley's lips, sending delightful shivers down Aziraphale's spine. 

But, Aziraphale had to put a stop to it. He pulled away and pressed his free hand to Crowley's chest, stopping Crowley who was ready to follow his lips again. "Crowley dear. I have food in hand."

"Oh right." Crowley said, a dazed look blessing his reddening face as he pulled away. He came to after a second with a shake of his head. "Be careful who you go around "tempting" then."

"Oh, you can tempt me anytime, darling." Aziraphale said cheerily. He turned back. "Shall we be on our way then?"

Crowley followed, his face beet red. The two started off in the Bentley in silence. Crowley kept his eyes glued to the road for once, trying to will his blush away. Meanwhile, Aziraphale kept glancing back at the Ritz, a guilty look clear across his face.

"Wait." Crowley scolded. 

"Surely, it's alright now."

"Just wait, angel." Crowley insisted. He stepped on the gas pedal a little harder, pushing the Bently from 80 to 95 miles an hour. He took a few sharp turns, checking his mirrors multiple times in the process. As they approached SoHo, Crowley finally sighed. 

"Fine. You can do it."

Aziraphale quickly waved his hands. Back at the Ritz, the cracked windows miraculously knit themselves back into pristine condition much to the continued bewilderment of its patrons. Aziraphale sighed as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. 


	7. Chapter 7

Year 6

In his six thousand years of roaming the Earth, Crowley had done just about everything humans could deem deplorable. He’s organized elaborate heists, desecrated holy land, even gave a few corporate bigwigs the idea of cordless headphones! All of it was in an effort to chase a certain high, a certain rush that came when pieces fell into place and humans walked away with the hilarious end result. 

However, none of it compared to this. He was honestly having the time of his life with this scheme. 

Most of it was, of course, Aziraphale’s fault. He played his part to the letter, stumbling over himself trying to be “wicked” despite his “angelic” nature. 

It was endearing. Like watching a demon commit their first act of arson. 

Crowley knew it was an act. Aziraphale’s would miracle a disaster into some poor souls, sure, but he would fall over himself to set things right the second he had the chance. Then, there was his own acting chops which were...lacking to say the least. (Thank God, both Heaven and Hell’s spies are morons when it came to interpersonal relationships.) 

But then, there was a spontaneous moment he’d improvise a new trick all by himself. A miracle here, a lie there, and Aziraphale would look at Crowley with just a hint of pride in his eyes as his idea played out surprisingly well. 

God, it made Crowley feel as he were back on the wall of Eden. Awestruck by the “misdeeds” of an angel so holy and right in all the ways that Crowley actually respected…

God if he died right now, that would be alright just so long as he could stay like this, basking in Aziraphale’s light and soaking up the ghosts of intimate affection Aziraphale threw out. 

The thought sent a nasty twinge to Crowley’s heart. There were only four more years before his time on Earth would be up. 

“That’s enough.” was Crowley’s first thought surprisingly enough. Four more years of how things stood now sounded better than anything he’d seen in Paradise itself. 

But, another part of him ached at the idea. There were so many schemes he had yet to pull. And, there were his plants to take into account. Who would give them the perfect balance of gentle but firm treatment that kept them looking pristine? Aziraphale surely wouldn’t; he spoiled his plants one too many times to be trusted with them. 

The thought of Aziraphale twisted his heart even more. Would Aziraphale miss him while he’s gone? 

He quickly chastised himself. Aziraphale had his own life or death situation to deal with, and wallowing in his own self pity wasn’t helping. They needed something more substantial if they wanted to see this through unscathed. 

There was one option, one that would help Aziraphale at least. Crowley didn’t like it all. The thought of it alone made his skin crawl with the memory of...well, everything.

But, it would keep Aziraphale safe. That would make it worth it. 

“Are you ok, my dear?” Aziraphale’s voice cut through his musings. Crowley blinked, taking in Aziraphale’s quiet bookstore for a moment. 

Crowley shook his head. “I’m fine, angel. Where were we?” 

Aziraphale gestured with a bottle of wine. 

“God, yes. 

A few glasses later, the alcohol set in with a comfortable buzz. Any worry in his mind seemed light years away as he downed another glass for good measure. He caught Aziraphale’s gaze on him when he lowered his glass. He stared back, and suddenly they were giggling like schoolgirls sharing a secret behind the teacher’s back. 

In a way, they were. They had been for thousands of years. He doesn’t know what he’s so worried about. By the time his four years were up, they will have gotten away with their little scheme. Just like always. 

Year 7

“Did you really think you were going to get away with this?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Y’all still here?
> 
> Hey sorry for the long hiatus and the short chapter tbh I didn’t have much for six year so it ended in a wall of sorts but he’s a bit 
> 
> As for the cliffhanger I apologize for nothing it seemed perfect hehe


End file.
